


Cinderella

by Bluest_of_Jayys



Category: Bionicle - All Media Types
Genre: Bionicle slash, Fluff, Highschool AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-26
Updated: 2013-02-26
Packaged: 2017-12-03 17:04:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/700623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluest_of_Jayys/pseuds/Bluest_of_Jayys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>X-post from FF.net: Lewa is a bit disgruntled by the story of Cinderella and outright enraged by his family, and Onua saves the day. Lewa/Onua</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cinderella

**Author's Note:**

> Needed to post something here so why not. I've been falling back into the Bionicle fandom slowly but surely.

“Onua, how far are you willing to go for me?”

At the sing-song voice calling his name, Onua looked up from his homework to lock eyes with the caller staring intensely at him across the table with bright green eyes. Those eyes lowered, their owner’s lips curling into a lighthearted smile. “Forget it,” he laughed, flipping a page in Onua’s textbook. “Next problem.”

Onua wouldn’t let the question slide, however. As the quietest of their little group of friends, he made it his goal to at least fill up any spaces left in the conversation by his boyfriend. He was still confused how “Lightning-mouth Lewa” could commit himself to such a quiet person as himself. Onua scratched out a quick answer on his homework before turning back to Lewa. “As far as you want,” his deep, mumbling voice permeated the air, its gravelly quality always a source of embarrassment to him, “I’ll even go swimming for you.”

Lewa chuckled. “No, no, you don’t have to do that. I know how much you hate swimming.”

“I’ll take you away at night and ride away on a white horse or a black cadillac or whatever your heart desires,” Onua forced himself to say. It was true, but that didn’t make the words come any easier to him.

He noticed, however, that Lewa had been struck completely mute by his statement. When he regained his ability to speak, his voice was harsh, raspy, and held something Onua could only barely identify as hope. “Are you serious?” Lewa’s eyes widened and his jaw went slack, “You’ll really take me away?”

Idly, Onua wondered if he’d said something wrong. Lewa was as unpredictable as the breeze; he misconstrued innocent intention as malicious and brushed off malicious intention with an innocent smile. “I will if you want me to,” he finally muttered.

“I do.”

Lewa’s answer was so firm and unyielding that Onua had to smile a bit and cover his partner’s hand with his own.

“You promise, right?” Lewa pleaded.

It was then that Onua realized that Lewa was being completely and uncharacteristically serious. He opened his mouth to speak, but all that escaped was a puff of air.

Lewa pulled his hand out from under Onua’s, dejected. “You’re not serious, are you?” he slumped in his seat, “I was really hoping, too...” he mumbled quietly.

There was clearly something wrong with Lewa, noted Onua. The normally brash and bubbly boy had donned a demeanor as icy and closed-off as Kopaka’s. “What are you thinking?” he asked softly. Lewa simply pouted and turned away in his seat in response. _He’s throwing a tantrum, at least that part’s normal,_ Onua thought to himself. “Come on,” he goaded, “I’m not going to know if you tell me.”

Lewa coughed. “It’s kind of a long story,” he said flatly.

Onua closed his textbook and shoved his homework to the side. “I’ve got time.”

It wasn’t quite enough to open Lewa’s mouth, though. The green-haired boy shook his head and changed the subject. “How about we just go out this evening?”

Knowing he had been outsmarted, Onua let the topic drop. “All right. I’ll pick you up around seven tonight.”

Lewa smiled as the bell rang, seeming to have regained his positive countenance. He picked up his things and turned to leave as the bell rang. “See you tonight, then!”

As he watched Lewa leave, book bag bobbing behind him, Onua wondered what had been bugging his friend so much. _I guess even the most open of us have mysteries,_ he mused.

XxX

By the end of the school day, Lewa grew nervous. He wished that he could just skip from the end of his last period English class to when Onua would be picking him up, fast-forward through the hours he would have to be in the same building with his father’s girlfriend and her daughters. _Two evil stepsisters and an evil stepmother,_ he scoffed, _I’m so lucky._

They were studying fairy tales and their social implications in English, specifically the story of Cinderella. A weak father being taken advantage of by his evil second wife who spoiled her daughters, equally as evil if not more so. It definitely was not the first time Lewa had read the story (he especially liked the Grimm brothers version) but he was beginning to grow quite sick of the similarities he saw between his life and that of Cinderella’s. _We aren’t even the same gender for Chrissakes, this shouldn’t be happening!_

They were nothing alike. He despised how weak Cinderella was. He was annoyed at her willingness to kowtow to her stepsisters even as they taunted her and piled on more chores, all simply because she didn’t want to cause trouble. Lewa, on the other hand, prided himself on knowing his limits. He was quite aware of his amiable nature and where its limits were. If it had been he in Cinderella’s place, he would have stolen a dress and marched himself off to the ball as soon as his stepmother and stepsisters were out of sight.

Maybe that was why his relationship with his “stepsisters” was strained. His patience had been spent on nearly a year of pointless arguments barring any positive interaction. He hardly even talked to his dad anymore. He sighed and glanced at the clock. Any minute now, the last bell would ring, Lewa would be on the bus, and he would try to get up to his room before either of his stepsisters noticed him.

The throaty honk of the school bell was almost drowned out by the ensuing chatter as students got up to leave. Lewa picked up his bags and briskly wove his way through scores of students and boarded his bus. Barely before he sat down, his hip buzzed, signaling the reception of a text message on his phone. He pulled out the device to check. It was from Onua and contained no words, only a simple picture of what he figured was Kopaka’s back, bent over to pick something up. _Hopefully a full moon will make you smile,_ it was captioned. Lewa couldn’t help but laugh. Serious, stuffy Kopaka would never let himself be caught in something so embarrassing as a mild wardrobe malfunction and was prepared to destroy any evidence of such if he knew. _Don’t tell him,_ Lewa texted back, trying to stifle a guffaw. He definitely felt better.

He leaned against the coolness of the plastic bus window as it sputtered to a start, phone still in hand, and closed his eyes. The chatter of the students that now filled the bus was reduced to a monotone buzz, occasionally punctuated by piercing cries which Lewa winced at. He willed himself to focus, however. Focus on the pleasant, like Onua. Nothing ever seemed to bug him. He could feel his face relax as he thought of Onua. Quiet and kind, yet possessing an unnameable quality Lewa could neither describe nor be repulsed by. He was the calming force in a windstorm, the first rays of sun piercing through marbled clouds, able to clear any twisted feelings in his gut with a simple touch of his hand. Lewa smiled. Onua was a true miracle.

The bus jolted to a stop a block away from Lewa’s house. Lewa picked up his things and stepped off, quickening his pace as he neared his house. At this time of day, he guessed that his father was at work, his father’s girlfriend was home, and his “stepsisters”–one older and one younger–were either on dates or hanging around with their friends at school. Quietly, he made his way inside his house, stopped by the kitchen for a bottle of water and a sandwich, and had almost closed the door to his bedroom when he was halted.

“You’re home early, Lewa.”

Lewa opened his door. “No, this is when school usually gets out,” he rolled his eyes. His father’s girlfriend, a beautiful yet austere woman by the name of Bayla, stood tall before him, yet despite her narrow shoulders and pale complexion she exhibited an aura of inviolate command.

“It’s not polite to talk back,” she scolded lightly. Her smile dripped poison, her acidic words landing on deaf ears.

Lewa shrugged. “It’s not polite to sneak up on people either, but you seem to like doing that.” Before Bayla could reply, he began to close the door again. “I have homework to do, so if you don’t mind, I need to start working.” The door shut with a loud click. It was a lie; he had finished all his homework with Onua during their study period. Lewa let himself fall onto his bed, sending faint clouds of dust into the musty air. He picked his alarm clock up off his night stand. _Just three more hours,_ he thought. Replacing his clock, he suddenly realized how hungry he was and grabbed his sandwich.

Outside, the sky grew dark and the street lamps turned on. He could hear his father’s car pull into the driveway, its engine turn off, and his father’s footsteps up to the door. By that time, Lewa had long finished his sandwich and was curled up in the corner of his bed with a stack of comic books. _Just one more hour._ He kept glancing at the clock despite his knowledge that doing so would not make time go any faster.

About half an hour later, his “sisters” came home. He could tell by the increased volume of the house and the wobbling thumps echoing through the halls; they had always been a little too excitable. He buried his nose in another graphic novel just as those wobbling thumps neared his room.

“Hey, twonk!” The door burst open, the girls striding into his bedroom as if they owned it, “Can we borrow twenty bucks? Each?”

Lewa put down his book. “Hell no! What do you think you’re using it for, anyway?”

The older sister, Layla, put her hands on her hips and tossed her dark hair out of her face. “Going out tonight,” she answered tersely.

Lewa glared. “I’m not made of money,” he spat, “ask your mom or something.”

“Mom already said no,” the younger sister, Kaila, retorted.

“And so am I,” Lewa answered.

Layla and Kaila exchanged smirks. “We’ll ask dad, then.”

“He’s not your dad,” Lewa snarled, “not even close.”

“He will be soon enough,” laughed Layla, “mom’s got him good.” They turned to leave, chuckling all the way.

Lewa raced to his door. “He’ll never be your dad, your mom will never be my mom, and you bitches will never be my sisters!” he shouted, slamming his door.

Barely five seconds passed before his door busted open once again. “I’m sorry, Lewa? What was that?” Bayla strode into Lewa’s room, hands on her hips and an angry grimace on her lips.

“You heard me,” Lewa snapped back, “I’m not accepting anyone like them as sisters and I’m not accepting the crazy floozy they tumbled out of as my mother, so you can take your crazy hellspawn and leave me and my dad alone!”

Bayla whipped around in a huff. Lewa’s outburst had evidently struck a chord within her. “You obviously need to learn to accept changes. How long has it been since your father and I started going out, now? Stop being so attached to your old mother and learn to adapt!” And with that, she stomped out of the room and slammed the door.  
Lewa plopped down on his bed, simultaneously proud and sick. This was the longest he had ever held out against Bayla, but the things she said wounded him. He sat there in silence, unable to cry yet unable to feel satisfied, either. Instead, he listened to the sounds around him: The occasional whoosh of a passing car, the increasing volume of the argument starting downstairs, the click of the door as his “sisters” snuck out...

Then a sudden sharp rapping on his window. Startled, he opened his curtains only to see Onua’s pale face peering back at him. He opened the window quickly, wide enough to let his boyfriend in.

“I have a door, you know,” Lewa smirked.

Onua shook his head. “It’s like the apocalypse down there. Couldn’t get in. What are they arguing about?”

Lewa shrugged. “Me, I guess. Those bitches I’m being forced to call ‘sisters’ came in here and asked for money then I got yelled at by their crazy mom.”

“Did you give them any?”

“Hell no!”

Onua let out a low laugh. “Okay. Let’s get you out of here, then.”

The jump from Lewa’s bedroom window to the ground outside wasn’t terribly high, but it was high enough to make Lewa slightly nervous. Onua seemed confident in his ability to navigate the distance with uncharacteristic ease for someone afraid of heights. He crouched on Lewa’s windowsill, ready to jump. “Are you coming?”

Lewa blew a lock of hair out of his face. “Well, I usually get out of my house by way of the door, like normal people do,” he grinned, “I’m willing to try, though.”

Onua nodded and disappeared from the window. Lewa watched him land in a crouch with a quiet thud on his lawn. Lewa followed suit, landing comfortably on his feet in front of Onua. Quietly, Onua motioned to the street, where a dark green sedan was parked. Lewa got into the passenger seat and Onua into the driver’s seat, and before anyone could see them, they had disappeared into the night. Lewa rolled down the window, letting the cool air whip at his hair and face. He let out a loud whoop.

“Feeling good?” Onua asked, smiling.

Lewa beamed back. “Yep, thanks to you."

They zipped down the street, no destination in particular, just enjoying the ride in ecstatic quietude. It was Lewa who broke the silence.

“If I’m Cinderella, then I’m glad that I’ve got you for a prince.”

Onua blinked in confusion. “Cinderella? Where’d that come from?”

A wide grin broke out on Lewa’s face. “Never mind.”


End file.
